


Rise

by xxwriter389xx



Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: Gen, and his younger brother Kade that i've created, i'll update if they are, not sure if any relationships will be in this, the main focus of this story is to go into my headcanon for Torn, there are some graphic depictions of death, this fic involves a lot of flashbacks and eventually meets up with my other jak 2 fic, which i will also post here soon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21911194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxwriter389xx/pseuds/xxwriter389xx
Summary: When Praxis reveals his plan to overthrow King Damas, Torn defects from the Krimson Guard to save his King. He is tasked with saving the King's son, Mar. After believing his younger brother to be dead, Torn makes it his sole responsibility to protect Mar at all costs.Manipulated by Erol, Kade believes his older brother Torn was killed in action. With no family left, he feels his only choice is to follow in his brother's footsteps and join the Krimson Guard.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

_Past_

Torn straightened his back, hands clasped behind him. Praxis had insisted he report to his office at the start of his shift. Praxis had asked to speak with him alone. When Torn asked what it was concerning, Praxis simply stated that it was urgent. He’d racked his brain on his way here, trying to determine what he could possibly need.

Torn stepped forward and the door slid open to reveal the war room. Praxis sat behind the table by the far wall.

Torn took a step closer and the door shut behind him.

“You asked to see me, sir?” He looked around and was surprised to see Erol standing off to the side. He knew better than to say anything but gave Erol a questioning look.

Praxis didn’t respond right away, neither did his second in command. Then finally with a breath he spoke, voice rumbling through the spacious room.

“You have been my trusted right-hand man for some time now. You told me your best soldier was a young man named Erol.” Praxis gestured to the redhead leaning against the wall.

Torn nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“And you can trust him?”

He hesitated, eyes flitting to Erol and back. Erol had always been…unpredictable to say the least. “He’s very dedicated. If he commits to you, you can trust him. So, I would say yes, sir.”

Praxis’ smirk was unnerving. “Loyalty without question, hmm? Perfect.”

“Perfect for what exactly, sir?”

“Torn,” he stood and walked over to a map of the city hanging on the wall. The room was dimly lit, but a spotlight was aimed at the map.

“See this part of the city?” Praxis pointed to sector 6. “It’s the closest to the Wasteland, separated only by a wall to keep beasts and the like out. But,” he traced the outer edge and stopped at the far corner. “There is a way for the Metal Heads to get in.”

Torn looked to him, startled. “Sir, we have to do something then,” he said urgently.

“I put it there,” Praxis looked to Torn with his one good eye. “The Metal Heads are beginning the attack on the city very soon. And with that confusion, I will overthrow King Damas.”

Torn completely forgot all form of rank. “Are you insane?! There are people out there! Families! Children! We need to evacuate them! And Damas is your King, you can’t do this!” He was shaking, fists balled up at his sides.

Praxis chuckled darkly as if Torn’s reaction were expected. “Relax, Torn, this is all for the best. I have a plan.”

He scowled. “Well, Praxis, I will _not_ help you.”

“I was afraid you might say that…” He gestured with his finger for Erol to step forward.

The ginger haired man smirked.

“ _Commander_ ,” he purred.

“Torn, you are a wonderful Commander. But you have to make a choice. You either aid us or you’re in the same position as Damas and his family.” Praxis crossed his arms over his wide chest.

Torn could feel his blood rushing in his ears and he shook his head. “You disgust me. I can’t believe I was such an idiot. How could I not see this coming? Here I thought the Guard was to protect the citizens, not gain you power.” He stepped closer until he was almost nose to nose with the tyrannical General. “I will make sure that in the end you have _nothing_.”

“I only want what’s best for the city. And this is the only way.”

Torn laughed humorlessly. “Bullshit.” He glared at him. “You want what’s best for you. And consider this my resignation.” Then he turned on the heels of his boots and stalked out.

“Would you like me to go after him, sir?” Erol asked.

There was a nod.

A wicked grin spread across Erol’s face. “With pleasure,” and he followed the path Torn had taken.

Torn stiffened, hearing footsteps behind him. He stopped, turning to face Erol, not surprised that it was him.

“Erol, why are you doing this? Are you insane?” He demanded.

“I should ask you the same thing, _‘Commander’_.” He stepped closer to him, so they were only an arm’s length apart. “You dedicated your life to the Guard. And now you’re walking away?!” His voice was eerily calm, like he was struggling to maintain composure.

“I dedicated my life to serving King Damas! To protect him! Not overthrow him!”

“You are a traitor,” Erol growled, stepping closer. “You’re weak and you cannot do what must be done.” He pressed on, driving Torn against the wall. But I’m not.” He brought a pistol to Torn’s head, holding his jaw in a vice-like grip so he couldn’t turn away. His nails were digging into Torn’s cheek, the metal cold on his temple.

Erol’s lips were curved into a snake-like grin. 

“It’s a shame to see such a wasted talent.” Erol feigned sympathy. “But the weak must be eliminated. Starting with you.”

“You say I’m weak, but I’m staying true to my ideals. I’d rather die than fall victim to being Praxis’ slave.”

“Oh but, Torn, you already _have_ sacrificed your ideals. Don’t act as if you haven’t done everything he’s asked of you.” Erol gave him a feigned pout to exaggerate his point.

“But not this…” Torn insisted, his air flow being cut off as Erol’s wrist pressed against his wind pipe, hand still on his face.

“Then you are nothing but a liability.” His expression fell back into that cold, deadly stare as he pressed the gun harder against Torn’s temple and moved to pull the trigger. Torn didn’t even flinch.

“What is going on here?” Ashelin’s demanding voice carried from down the hall.

Erol scowled and immediately replaced it with a smile as he turned to face her. “Oh, just some harmless fun.”

The malevolent glint in his eye probably told her otherwise but she let it slide.

“Move on, Private Erol.” She walked closer.

“That’s _Commander_ Erol to you, sweetheart,” he sneered, giving her a side-eyed glance as he passed by.

Ashelin shot him a glare, lip turned down slightly in a harsh frown. She made a gruff sound at the back of her throat and looked to Torn, who was currently rubbing his neck where a welt was beginning to form a bruise.

“What is he talking about, Torn?” She didn’t bother asking if he was alright, she never was one for sympathy.

Torn shook his head. “Nothing.” He went to walk around her, just to have her stop him with a none-too-gentle hand to the chest.

“Don’t give me any of that bullshit. What’s going on?”

“Well, I quit.” He pushed her hand away, hurrying down the hall.

He needed to find King Damas as soon as possible and that meant he had to head to the Palace. It stood at the heart of the city, mostly level with the rest of the buildings. Torn always warned him it needed better defenses. It wasn’t too far from the Fortress but he couldn’t waste any time especially with Erol on his ass.

“You what?” She caught up with him and demanded an answer. “Why the hell would you do that? You’ve sacrificed so much for this!”

“That’s just it, Ashelin!” He stopped, turning to face her. “I sacrificed too much for this! I sacrificed who I am for this damn job! But there are just some things I won’t do.” Torn’s hand cut across the air between them in a symbol of finality.

Ashelin’s mouth was tense and she looked away.

He understood everything then; when she didn’t ask for an explanation; and he took a step back.

“You know. Of course.” He shook his head in disgust. “I can’t fucking believe this. You lied to my face this entire time. You went behind my back just like Erol did! He’s our King, Ashe! What the hell are you thinking?” He was shouting but he didn’t care.

“My father knows what it takes to end this war with the Metal Heads; King Damas doesn’t.”

“He loves this goddamn city! You think _your father_ gives a damn about these people?”

She angered visibly at that, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Don’t act like you know him so well. If you did, you would have seen this coming.”

Torn scoffed, shaking his head. “You really believe in him.” He walked past her. “I’m leaving. I have to go warn King Damas. And I’ll be damned if I let you stop me.”

And she let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot already written so a lot will be posted at once. Enjoy some Torn fic <3


	2. Chapter 2

Torn was panicking. He knew he was panicking. He generally prided himself on keeping a level head, but these were extenuating circumstances. He was racing to the Palace, hoping that when he got there the Guards would let him in. Hopefully they hadn’t been informed of his abrupt resignation. Besides, there had to be some Guards who were still loyal to the King…

Luckily the Guards out front simply saluted Torn as he ran by. The Palace entrance opened up into the Throne Room that stood behind large heavy doors—doors that barely stopped Torn in his current frenzy.

“My King!”

Damas was consulting with a few Guards and Torn immediately schooled his features. There was no way to know which side they were on.

“Commander Torn,” Damas smiled, his voice rough and familiar.

“May I speak with you, King Damas?” He gave a harsh look to the two Guards with him. “Alone.”

Damas nodded. “Of course.”

The Guards left without being told but not before they shared a confused glance.

“You seem to be in a hurry,” Damas began. Before he could ask why, Torn placed a hand on his king’s forearm. It was too familiar, Torn was never this forward.

Damas’ face fell, fear clear in his eyes. “What is going on?” His voice was lower.

“It’s Praxis. He’s found a way to let the Metal Heads into Sector 6. He’s planning to overthrow you. We need to get you and your family out now.”

It only took a few moments for Damas to process this information. He didn’t question it. He wasn’t shocked. Was Torn the only one who didn’t expect this? The only one who didn’t see this coming? “Diana is with Mar out in the garden.” Damas had barely finished speaking when Torn went to head in that direction. “But, Torn,” he grabbed the young man’s wrist. “Your family. They live in Sector 6. You should go to them.”

Torn was conflicted. He had a duty to his King. But Kade…Kade was only 15. He had no weapons. They were all defenseless. Torn realized he didn’t know how much time they had before the attack.

Before he could consider what to do next there was a shouting from outside. Damas ran in that direction and Torn followed without a second thought.

Torn took in the scene instantly.

The Queen was kneeling on the ground in front of two Guards—the same two Guards Torn had just sent from the room.

“Praxis’ orders, Queen Diana,” one said.

“If you just hand him over we won’t have to hurt you,” said the other, his gun raised.

Torn’s heart was pounding.

Prince Mar was in her arms, blue eyes wide. He was young, most likely too young to know what was going on. But children could sense fear.

“Put your guns down, now!” Damas’ booming voice carried across the garden and he was in front of his wife in an instant.

Torn hadn’t moved but that pushed him into motion. He knelt down next to the Queen, checking her over for any injuries.

“This doesn’t concern you,” The Guard with the gun spat.

“I am your King and you will do as I say!”

“You’re not our King for long,” said the other Guard.

There was fury in the Queen’s eyes and if it weren’t for Mar in her arms, Torn knew she would have jumped up to stand next to the King.

“You don’t have to do this,” King Damas warned.

“Praxis is gonna stop this war. You aren’t. You’re weak compared to him,” the gunman said.

Torn stood. “He’s lying to you. Praxis isn’t going to end this war. He’s letting Metal Heads into the city as we speak!”

The second Guard lifted his rifle. “That’s a lie…” Torn could see doubt in his features.

“Let them go. I won’t tell Praxis anything.”

The second Guard glanced to the first, as if to ask if maybe they should listen to their previous Commander, but the first man snarled.

“This ends now.” He said and the unsure Guard seemed to regain his composure.

Torn heard footsteps. More Guards were coming. Was the plan always supposed to start then or had Torn forced their hand by coming to warn the King? Were the Metal Heads already in the city?

Queen Diana stood, half behind her husband to protect their child. “You cannot do this.” Her eyes were deadly. A sharp blue. She was a fighter. A warrior. Part of Torn wondered if the rumors of her being able to manipulate Eco were true.

“We’re taking that kid, even if it means we have to kill you to do it.” The first Guard yanked the Queen’s arm to pull her closer to him, Mar falling to the ground. It all happened so fast. Too fast. The second she tried to fight back they shot her. Blood was everywhere. Damas had fallen to his knees to stop the flow. But Torn knew it was too late.

Torn picked up the Prince, checking him over quickly to see he only had a few scratches. His eyes were on his mother, bleeding out in front of him. Would he remember this if he survived? Would he remember his father’s broken sobs and the look that told Torn everything he needed to know?

_Take my son and run._

Torn couldn’t remember how he’d made it to the street but he was sprinting, the Prince in his arms. Mar was silent, looking around bewildered. Shouldn’t he be crying? Isn’t that what kids did? He should be crying. He should be saying something. He was young but he could speak. Why wouldn’t he say anything?

Somehow Torn remembered the way to a certain tent in the Bazaar.

_If anything ever happens, take Mar to Onin in the Bazaar. She’ll keep him safe._

He knew of the Soothsayer, come across her tent on occasion. He knew Damas liked to visit her. He claimed she knew many things.

He continuously checked to make sure no one was following him, but it was clear that the Metal Head attack had already started. People were screaming, running to their homes, Guards were running to the Palace. Torn was just another person in the crowd, fighting his way to his destination.

When he arrived at the tent he slipped in as quickly as possible. A bird squawked and Torn nearly jumped.

“What do you want?” The bird demanded.

If Torn hadn’t been here on occasion with Damas he would have been shocked by a talking bird.

“There’s trouble. Keep him safe. Please.” Torn placed the still silent Mar on one of the mats.

Onin was frantically signing something. The bird was serious for once.

“Onin says she will keep him here until you return. She also says you must go to your family. They need you.”

Torn nodded and with one last look at a wide-eyed Mar he exited the tent.

He’d hijacked a zoomer someone had left their keys in with all the commotion and was speeding through the slums to the Sector all the way across town.

He should never have stopped to talk to Ashelin. Maybe he shouldn’t even have warned the King. It was all time he wasted when his family was in danger. So many people were in danger. How did he not see this coming?

Upon arriving he hopped off the zoomer without bothering to turn off the engine. Erol was there, along with a handful of Guards.

“I’m going in.” He said to Erol, not even sparing him a glance as he pushed past him.

But Guards blocked the way.

The doors were already closing and Torn fought against the Guards but there were too many. He could hear the screams as people were ripped apart. The roars of the Metal Heads as they tore through people as if they were nothing but paper.

“We’re closing the gates, Torn. It’s too late to save them.”

The doors closed with a bang and Torn dropped to his knees.

Erol stood over him, his shadow cast out over Torn’s hands as they clenched against the stone ground.

“You were too late.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said in the tags, this coincides with my other Jak 2 fic I'm writing. So, the present scenes take place during Jak 2. I will be posting an edit of that fic (as it was originally written years ago). Daxter is human in this fic btw.
> 
> TW for this chapter: graphic depictions of death, vomiting

_Present_

“Torn?”

Torn sat, eyes unfocussed.

Who was he talking to again?

“Um…Torn?”

“Hm?” He looked up, blinking. “What did you ask?” He focused on Jak whose brows were creased in concern.

“Um I asked…I asked how you found him.” Jak gestured to the kid, who was sitting in Daxter’s lap, clapping his chubby little hands as Tess cut up some food for him behind the bar.

Torn’s hands were shaking and he clenched his fists. “Long story.” He got up from the stool he was sitting on and walked behind the counter. He found a bottle of unopened hard liquor and a clean looking shot glass. His hand shook and he spilled some on the counter as he poured but couldn’t be bothered by it as he downed the shot all at once.

Jak seemed to hesitate about asking him more and Torn could imagine Tess was glancing at them through the mirror. 

Daxter seemed to ask it for him. “Is he really the heir to the throne?”

Torn’s teeth clenched. “Does it matter? King Damas is gone. He has been for over 2 years.”

“And his mom?” Jak’s face looked haunted and it brought Torn back to the moment when he was carrying Mar in his arms away from the Palace, his blue eyes wide. He had that same expression on his face. The kid had seen his mother get killed. He hadn’t spoken since.

“Let’s just say I’m glad he doesn’t remember anything,” said Torn, pouring himself another shot.

“But you do.” Jak crossed his arms.

“And if you’re expecting me to talk about it, you’re wrong.”

Tess came over, conveniently timed to break the tension. “The first time Torn walked into the old bar I worked at I didn’t know what to think. I’d never met him before but he asked me if there was a room he could stay in. I couldn’t turn away someone with a kid, even if that someone had Guard tattoos.”

“So that’s how you met, huh?” Daxter asked, helping the kid eat his food.

Torn grunted. “She’s always been too trusting.”

Tess elbowed him. “I knew he was the Commander of the Guard but I also knew not to ask questions. I could tell from his eyes that he’d been through a lot. He was honest.”

Torn stared down at the glass on the counter before downing another shot. “I’m taking this.” Torn raised the bottle as he walked to a booth in the back corner, lying out with one leg bent and the other dangling on the floor.

The amber liquid of the bottle glinted in the florescent bar lights and Torn closed his eyes and waited for the alcohol to take effect.

_Past_

“Commander?”

Torn stirred from his half-sleep. “Not a Commander anymore, I told you that.”

“Right. Yeah. Sorry, it’s a habit.”

Torn opened his eyes to see the barkeep, Tess, setting down a tray of food on the rickety table. She’d been letting them sleep in her home. It was small, falling apart. But it was an unremarkable apartment; somewhere that Praxis’ Guards wouldn’t think to check. And she was nice enough to let the former Commander of the King’s Guard stay under her roof with a mysterious kid that she couldn’t help but assume was the missing heir to the throne.

Torn sat up on the couch, stretching his back and running his fingers over his plaited hair. He looked to the coffee table next to him and found his pack of smokes. He slid one out and couldn’t help but notice there were only a few left.

“You’re not gonna smoke with the kid around are you?” Tess challenged with a raise of her eyebrow.

The cigarette was already between his lips and he spoke around it. “I know the drill,” he grunted, walking over to the window. The air outside was thick and damp and the window was already cracked open. Torn dragged one of the two kitchen chairs over and sat down, lighting up.

He took a couple drags before he said anything.

“You don’t have to let us stay any longer. It’s dangerous.”

“So you’ve said.” She didn’t even look to him as she smiled at Mar, coaxing the little one’s mouth open with a spoon.

He sighed, smoke coming out of his mouth in a puff. He flicked cigarette ashes into an ash tray Tess had ‘taken’ from the bar after she complained about the burns on her already ruined carpet.

It was quiet, the only sounds in the apartment being Mar’s chewing and Tess’ cooing.

“Have you heard any news?” It had been 3 days since everything went to shit. Torn had barely slept. He’d asked Tess to keep her ears open, knowing that people talked at a bar. And also knowing that particular bar was frequented by Guards who often got drunk enough to let something slip.

Tess put the spoon down as Mar finished his meal. “There have been whispers that the Sage in Sector 6 stopped the attacks. No one is sure how. But access to the area is restricted. I heard a couple of Guards talking about making rounds out there; looking for…survivors.” She paused. “It didn’t sound like they found many.”

Torn nodded, jaw clenched as he felt bile rise in his throat. He’d seen first-hand the damage Metal Heads could do and that was on fully armored Guards…no one stood a chance. He imagined his mother, his little brother…nothing left to identify them.

He felt a hand on his arm and thanks to all his years of training, he had no reaction. He glanced over to see Tess kneeling next to him. “Torn…what’s going on?”

She hadn’t asked a single question about any of this since he’d asked her for a place to “lie low”. He understood being worried. The citizens of this city had no idea what was going on. Did they even realize their Queen was dead? Praxis—the Baron, as his self-given title was now—had announced a public banishment. The King was going to be sent into the Wasteland to die.

Torn had failed everyone.

He shook his head, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“I wish I knew. All I know right now is that Praxis was successful. I should have known. That prick always was power hungry.”

Tess frowned. “What are you gonna do? If they find you…” She glanced back at Mar who was now sitting on the floor.

“I promised King Damas I would look after his son. I failed him in everything else, but I can’t fuck this up.”

Tess nodded, looking determined. “Whatever you plan to do, I’ll help. Besides, it’s just me now. I could use the company.” She was smiling. At a time like this she was smiling. When was the last time Torn truly smiled?

Kade didn’t remember much of the attack. He wasn’t even sure how he survived.

He also didn’t know _how_ the Sage stopped the Metal Heads, but he did. As soon as Kade stepped outside of what felt like a protective bubble, he froze. There was blood everywhere. A stark contrast to how…alive everything looked surrounding the hut. People screaming and crying. There was a sea of bodies between him and his house and he felt his stomach turn as he ran towards it. There was nothing left but crumbled stone. That’s when he spotted something in the rubble.

Kade was shaking and somehow managed to lift concrete slabs to reveal his mother—or what was left of her. Her eyes were open, staring lifelessly at the sky, her jaw at the wrong angle and her neck twisted unnaturally. Blood. So much blood. His stomach revolted at the sight and he staggered away, violently heaving as his stomach emptied its contents.

At some point, he’d fallen to his knees, sobbing openly. His cries mixed with everyone else’s—the few who had survived, most of which would likely die before anyone came to save them.

He didn’t know where else to go. Night had fallen and he knew he had to bury her. There was no one here to help him anymore. Their father was gone, Torn was with the Guard… He would come for him, wouldn’t he? The rest of the city had to have known by now. Some people must have gotten out, told a Guard, _something_.

Before he got the chance to move, he heard footsteps behind him and turned numbly to the source.

“Erol…” Kade stood. “Where’s my brother? Is he with you? I don’t want him to see this…” He wrapped his arms around himself to stop the shaking.

The expression on Erol’s face was enough for him to lose all hope. “I’m sorry, Kade. Torn isn’t coming…”

Kade nodded. “I see…”

“Praxis is trying to do what is right for this city. The King…well he wouldn’t allow it. Torn…he’s gone.”

Kade didn’t need to ask to know what that meant.

It was as if the world around him was muted and all Kade could hear was the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears and his unsteady breathing.

“What do I do now?” His voice cracked, barely a whisper.

“Follow me.” Erol smiled gently and it reminded Kade of when the three of them spent time together as kids; Torn, Erol and him. Erol picking fights, Torn the protector, Kade doing his best to keep up. Erol didn’t smile much anymore. This sad, pitiful smile was all that was left.

And now Kade understood why. There was nothing to smile about anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for this chapter: kinda graphic death talk

_Present_

“How’d you two meet?” Jak asked, still looking bewildered from seeing the Shadow, as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Does it matter? He’s our leader.”

Jak raised an eyebrow, leveling him with a stare as he crossed his arms.

“He’s your leader?” Daxter scoffed, stance now mimicking Jak’s. “He’s an asshole.”

Torn ground his teeth. “Besides the fact that you don’t even know him, he’s the only damn reason we haven’t lost the war against the Metal Heads yet. He protected the Sacred Site. Praxis left everyone to die out there. Samos is the only one who made it out.”

Daxter’s expression showed that he understood, for once, that he’d pushed too far.

“Torn…” Jak started.

“Get the fuck out. Now.” The way he sat back down at his desk made it clear he was done speaking with them.

_Past_

The first time Torn visited Dead Town after the attack was before it got its new name. After Tess told him about the Sage stopping the attack, he had to go see for himself. Tess worked at night and during the day agreed to stay in with Mar, no questions asked.

When approaching the doors, he found they were still shut tight. He hoped that in all the chaos Praxis—or Erol—had forgotten to revoke his security clearance. He raised his pass to the keypad on the door and heard the gears turning and with a clank the doors opened, letting out a hiss of steam.

_“Entering restricted zone. Proceed with caution.”_

Torn ignored the automated voice and took a deep breath before the following doors opened, having a general idea of what he’d find on the other side.

But as much as he prepared himself for it, seeing it…buildings had collapsed, bodies were ripped apart…and the smell. Torn had smelled death before. But never like this.

He willed himself to keep going, keeping his eyes on the Sage’s hut in the distance. He couldn’t look in the direction of his home. If he did he’d never be able to leave.

He was a soldier; he was trained for this. So, in order to maintain control, he switched into that mode. These weren’t people he knew anymore; they were just faces; lifeless and cold. It was just like any other fight. Expected casualties after a battle.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

When he reached Samos’ hut he felt older somehow.

There was blood on his boots. He wiped his feet at the door.

It was open, the Sage looking up after hearing him approach.

“Commander,” he said, coming to stand in front of him.

“Not anymore.”

Torn had told him everything. The only thing he left out was where he was keeping Mar. He knew Samos was dedicated to Damas. He was a grouchy old man but he was loyal. He’d been living in Sector 6 for as long as Torn could remember; certainly before he was born.

Torn didn’t dare ask about his brother and mother. If Samos knew anything he would have already told him. According to his knowledge, there were no survivors.

After a long pause, Samos spoke. “We have to keep Prince Mar safe. And we need to restore King Damas to the throne if possible.”

“If he doesn’t die in the Wasteland first,” Torn said bluntly.

“Always the optimist, Torn.”

Samos knew everyone in this section of the city. Kade was always fascinated by the Sage’s hut. If only he’d been here when…

It was clear Torn wasn’t going to speak so Samos continued. “Would you be interested in joining me?”

Torn nearly scoffed. “I don’t have many options left, do I? My family’s gone, I failed my King. The only thing I can do now is keep that kid safe.”

The Sage nodded. “It is still too early to organize a formal resistance… But continue what you’re doing. I assume you’ve found someone you can trust.”

Torn nodded.

“Good. Find more people. Big changes are coming. If there’s anyone in the Guard you still trust…”

He immediately thought of Ashelin, but then remembered she had knowledge of her father’s plan all along. He’d need more time to consider if she was an ally or not.

“The woman I mentioned, she’s good at playing detective. And she may not just be playing. She’s good. I never would have suspected her.”

“Keep her close.” Samos rose from his seat with a grunt. “When I have formulated a better plan I will contact you. And Torn…”

He had already turned towards the door but he looked back to see Samos watching him.

“I’m sorry.”

Torn looked away. “So am I.”

It was dark when he made it back to Tess’ apartment, covered in mud and dried blood. She didn’t say a thing as he walked wordlessly into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a chapter full of my precious baby boy Kade <3

_Present_

Kade stood in front of the mirror. He barely recognized himself underneath all the tattoos. The Guard tattooing him had warned him that they would peel and that it meant they were healing. Maybe a new layer of skin was what he needed. A fresh start.

“Corporal?”

He was still getting used to that. It had only been about two years but he’d already reached the rank of Corporal. He knew that behind his back people weren’t as respectful. They called him Erol’s pet. To the rest of the Guard he was a Crocadog, not a Corporal.

He’d earned this. This job was his life now. He’d given everything he had for this. His brother had worked so hard, Kade vowed to do the same.

“Yes, Private?” Kade asked as he turned around.

The Guard was wearing a helmet but Kade could imagine the sneer underneath. Those looks and sharp words didn’t hurt him. Not anymore.

“Commander Erol is requesting your presence.”

Kade nodded. With his armor back on he could really feel the sting from his freshly tattooed skin, but just like people’s comments, he ignored it.

The walk from the barracks to Erol’s office was long but it gave him time to think. To process.

There had been news of an uprising in the city. Something referred to as The Underground. It was small. But there had been whispers about an escaped prisoner who now aided the movement. Their goal was to restore the House of Mar to the throne. Erol had told him that the entire family was gone—the King banished to the Wasteland, the Queen was killed and their son, Prince Mar, was missing. Kade had pressed for more information, _who did this?; why?_ But the closest he’d ever gotten was when Erol told him that there were “bigger things at work” that he “needn’t concern himself with”.

He wouldn’t even tell him what happened to his brother.

He’d heard other Guards speak about Torn. About how he disappeared before the attack on Sector 6. They thought he was in on it—that he was a traitor. Kade knew his brother couldn’t have had anything to do with it. Torn had wanted to become a Guard because deep down, Kade knew he had loved this city. He wondered what his brother would think now. Half of the city was in ruins, their old Sector home reduced to nothing but Metal Heads and decomposed bodies. People were starving and desperate. The Baron had said he was going to end the war but it was still going on. People were becoming angry. Kade couldn’t blame them.

The door was open when Kade arrived but he knocked anyway.

“Commander,” he saluted. “You wanted to see me?” He placed his arms behind his back.

Erol was sitting with his legs propped up on his desk and when he saw Kade in the doorway he grinned.

“You look much older with your tattoos,” he commented, sitting up. “How does it feel?”

Kade had only seen his brother a handful of times after he joined the Guard. It had been a shock to see him with his tattoos the first time. Their mother had sighed and despite knowing it was bound to happen she still lamented, _“You’re so handsome, Torn, and now I can barely see your face.”_ Torn had chuckled and shot Kade a look as if to say _‘I told you so’_. His eyes had looked brighter against the dark ink.

They had always looked similar, Kade’s features softer and more childish still, but his mother always said they had the same eyes.

What would his brother say if he saw him like this?

“It feels…different.”

Erol rolled his eyes. “So eloquent.” He came to stand in front of his desk, leaning back against it as he looked him over again. “We have a situation,” he began.

Straight to business then.

He let Erol continue.

“The prisoner that escaped not too long ago… He’s causing some problems. I’m sure you’ve heard of the ridiculous movement that aims to put that Mar brat back on the throne?”

Kade nodded. “The people are scared of the Metal Heads. They don’t feel like the Baron is protecting them.”

Erol scowled. “Without the Baron doing what he did this city would have fallen to those beasts. You think Damas did what was best for this city?”

He paused. “I never said that. I only meant—”

Erol held a gloved hand up to stop him. “I want you to find that prisoner. Bring him back to me. But do so slowly, because if he’s as strongly connected to The Underground as we believe, we want to gather all the information possible. Members, leaders, anything you find out along the way you report back to me.”

Kade considered his next words carefully. “Only you, sir?”

“Yes. Only me. I don’t trust many people. I hear too many Guards complaining. Besides, they’re not smart enough for this.”

“And Lieutenant General Ashelin? What about her?”

Erol nearly scoffed in disgust. “The Baron can’t see it but his daughter is a rebel sympathizer. She can’t be trusted. I have reason to believe she’s working with them.”

Torn had mentioned Ashelin a handful of times. He admired her, thought of her as a strong and capable soldier.

“However,” Erol continued. “If you can get information out of her, be my guest. Or even follow her. She may lead you right to them. If you find that she might have some softness towards them, lead her to believe that you do as well.”

“Yes, sir.” With a final salute, he turned to leave.

“And Kade?”

Kade looked back.

“That prisoner I mentioned… You might want to be careful. He could rip through your armor in 5 seconds flat.”

As the door closed, he paled. What had he gotten himself into?

His investigation—if he could even call it that—led Kade to the Hip Hog Heaven Saloon. He never spent much time in bars but he’d seen a person matching the escaped prisoner’s description go in there a handful of times. He was never alone—at first he would see him with some type of ferret and then later, a boy who couldn’t be older than Kade. Both of them were young. Jak, as he’d learned the prisoner’s name to be thanks to the friend’s loud voice, looked a bit older. It was possible that was just the effect prison had on him. Kade couldn’t imagine what someone so young must have done to warrant being arrested. He didn’t look as dangerous as Erol had led him to believe. But he’d heard rumors about the testing being done on inmates and imagined that Jak must have been one of the only ones who’d survived.

Kade wasn’t blind. And despite being Erol’s lackey, there were plenty things he didn’t agree with. But Kade had always been too soft. He used to get beat up a lot as a child. Torn was always bailing him out of trouble, kicking anyone’s ass who dared touch his little brother. Erol seemed to enjoy the fighting and was more than happy to help. It had always been the three of them. But Torn never judged Kade for being the way he was. He always told him that he could go on to do bigger and better things, that being in the Guard wasn’t the only option out there.

After joining the Guard, Torn seemed more adamant than ever to keep him out of that life. He told him the job was hard, that to do it he’d have to sacrifice his ideals. Maybe he was worried it would ruin Kade’s optimistic outlook on the world. If that was the case, then he was right to worry.

The world was shit and that was what Torn had been trying to keep from him all that time.

Kade waited for the pair to leave the bar before hopping out of his unmarked KG cruiser. His tattoos were a dead giveaway so he hadn’t even bothered changing out of his armor.

When he entered the saloon, he was surprised, and grateful, to see it was nearly empty—less ears and eyes the better. He noted that it _was_ the middle of the afternoon but he expected…more. It didn’t seem like this place got much business but perhaps it livened up at night.

A young woman behind the bar smiled at him as he walked in. She must see a lot of Krimzon Guards come through here because she didn’t seem phased.

“Welcome to the Hip Hog Heaven Saloon,” she smiled as he approached the counter. “What’ll it be?”

Surprisingly a smile was easy for him to return. “Unfortunately, I’m here on business.”

He noticed her smile falter but it wasn’t long before she appeared normal. He couldn’t immediately assume that meant she was involved in anything—most people were more than wary of the Guard.

She leaned her elbows down on the counter, her chin coming to rest in her hand. “And what might that business be?”

Kade had a plan. If he could spook her just enough, she might let something slip. Or she would contact someone and hopefully set something in motion. Something that may lead to Kade getting closer to The Underground.

He sat down on one of the stools. “I’m looking for Krew.”

“Well, you came to the right place but I’m sorry to say he’s not here at the moment.”

He nodded. “I hear he’s not the most…friendly guy so maybe that’s for the best.”

She laughed. This could all be an act, Kade knew that. But if it was then she was damn good. “Working for him is…interesting.” She tilted her head to look at him. “Why do you ask?”

“Someone came to us complaining about him owing them money. Not something we normally get involved in but I’m a low guy on the totem pole.” He shrugged.

She narrowed her gaze ever-so slightly. “Your tattoos say otherwise. As does your lack of helmet. I can’t say I’m used to seeing Krimzon Guard’s faces.”

She was letting him know where she stood, making it clear that lying to her wasn’t going to be easy. He was surprised, most people who encountered a Guard would say anything it took to avoid a confrontation. He wondered why she felt bold enough to challenge him.

“Listen, Krew doesn’t play games. If you’re interested in working with him I can pass that information along.”

Krew was infamously known as an information dealer. It wasn’t a shock to see her admitting to that fact. What reason did she have to protect him anyway?

When Kade didn’t speak, she asked, “Who sent you?”

Kade raised an eyebrow. “That’s rather bold don’t you think?”

The woman paused, narrowing her eyes. “You look familiar. Have you been in here before?”

He was taken aback. They had been playing this little game and to ask him something like this…he didn’t understand why.

“Um…no I can’t say that I have.”

She hummed. “Well, in any case, if you don’t have anything Krew can use I doubt he’ll agree to meet with you. Come back with something and then maybe we’ll talk.”

Standing from his seat, Kade put his hands in his pockets. “Understood.” He gave her a smile and then he left.

As Tess watched the Guard walk out she couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. His eyes were a striking ice blue. She wondered what he could possibly be looking for. Was he another crooked Krimzon Guard looking to make some extra money on the side by giving Krew information? Or was he after something bigger?

What struck her the most aside from his eyes was his age. He couldn’t be any older than Jak and already high enough in the ranks to receive his tattoos. Everything she knew about the Guard, which wasn’t much, she learned from Torn.

She had been curious as to differences in KG’s tattoos and what those differences meant. He’d explained that each rank added something new and that the full body tattoos were only given once a person reached the rank of Corporal.

Ashelin might know why he was sniffing around. But Tess would wait before mentioning anything to Torn—he hated being bothered with tips that led nowhere.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot already written so I'll be posting pretty regularly :) I hope you enjoy some Torn time!


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